Sometimes a shower is like a benediction. Little freezing drops of blessing pouring over you, cleansing, clearing, heartening for a new day. I feel I am washing off this whole bad experience of Lent, when I gave up the wrong things and somehow, went wrong.
Meat and alcohol and (sometimes) sweets.
But I didn't give up the rage in my heart or the longing that stirs the blood and drives me crazy.
I didn't give up the madness (because how could I? you need to move through the madness to get to the other side).
I sit here waiting for a phone call to pick up the mother and the brother from Good Friday service.
At long last, Lent has juddered to an end.
Tomorrow, Esther and I go to watch Libera in Singapore. Another obsession (mine, not hers).
It's a birthday treat for her, and I don't know what it is for me. A "Thank God that's over..." kind of treat?
But the stately ships move on
to their haven under the hill
but oh for the touch of a vanished hand
and the sound of a voice that is still.
I believe that people move on, and that they do it successfully without a piece of them caught in the past, infected and rotten.
I have to believe.
I can't take this for very much longer.
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